The Walk Home
by Astarii Amaranth
Summary: She had asked him to walk her best friend home in the early, cold dawn. [complete oneshot]


There wasn't even a hint of a breeze. The morning was the stoic gray it always is just before dawn, and it was so bitingly cold outside that the air crept through even the thickest wool coats. Nothing stirred or made a noise as they walked, just the gentle sounds of her feet on the pavement, the sharp clicks of his step beside her.

"I'm sorry, you really didn't need to walk with me," she began pathetically. The first words she had spoken to him since they had began walking to the tiny apartment she called home. His presence was both stifling and exciting, and in the mix she only felt uncomfortable and timid. So unlike her usual self.

"She wanted me to," he returned emotionlessly. She felt even worse than before. His tall, slender dark form, usually so strong and elegant, was intimidating and sharp. She buried her hands deeper into her pockets. A fingernail slipped through the hole in her glove to scratch at her pocket lining. She needed new gloves, she thought offhandedly.

Still the _click-click_ of his shiny black shoe, the faint rustle of his long black coat. She couldn't think of a single thing to say, and felt awkward in her skin. He didn't offer the beginnings of a conversation either. But he never was a talkative guy. They walked another block, and then another. They turned a corner and continued. The faint peach light of early morning was just whispering of the inevitable day ahead above the rooftops.

"Boy," she stretched her arms high above her head cheerfully, "it sure was a long night." He didn't respond, and she dropped her arms, slid her hands into her pocket again. He didn't say a word. "And those two friends of yours sure can drink! Haha!" Her forced cheerfulness was a stab in the dark, and her attempt was left cold and hanging. He merely stared straight ahead, like a bodyguard on duty.

More silence and then, "It's the Sakura apartment complex, correct?" She nearly started at the sudden sound of his voice. She nodded silently as they crossed the street. His tone was so flat, so business-like. Did he really dislike walking her home this much? She knew he had been asked to, but was it really this boring for him? She hated to think it was.

"She looked well tonight." No, that wasn't what she had wanted to say. Why had she let it spill out? A corner of his mouth twitched; it might have been a small smile, perhaps a smirk. But it was gone as soon as she noticed.

"Yes, she did." She hadn't needed to tell him whom she was speaking of; he already knew, and had probably already thought of it. Silence once more as her mind and heart raced. She wildly hoped she would have the courage to burst forth in a confession of the love for him that had warmed within her, and desperately desired she would not and thus not crush the hopes and dreams of both he and her best friend.

But she wanted to blurt out all her thoughts and feelings to him. Right now in an empty street in the earliest traces of dawn. She wanted the release it would offer her to let all her worries and heartaches pierce the painful, awkward silence. She was nothing more than business to be attended to for him, but she wanted to let him know that her every hope rested in his blacker-than-night eyes, and that she wished those eyes would look at her as sincerely as they looked at her best friend.

It was hopeless, a waste of her time, a lost cause. But she clutched to it like the last lifeboat in the sea. Her cold hands shook under her tattered gloves, in her coat pockets. She clutched her jaw to keep it from trembling. And he walked along beside her, completely unaware, completely in the dark to her struggles.

She could smell him as he walked beside her. His scent so sterile it was almost of a medical quality, and yet there was this deep hint of sandalwood. She was so close to him that his coat brushed against her arm as they walked, and when they turned a corner they would touch briefly.

"So," he adjusted the buttons of his coat, "you both are dating." If she weren't used to him, she wouldn't have understood it was a question.

"Yes, we are." No, we're not! We're together because I can't have you, and he's just simply bored. He knows it too! It seems you're the only person who doesn't notice how my eyes follow you…

"I see." But you really don't. And I can't show you the truth. I love you too much, and her too much, to ever ruin the happiness the both of you share. "This is it?" He stopped before her apartment building, leaned forward to open the gate for her. The tall building blocked the rising sun and its warmth.

"Thank you for walking me home…"

"Your welcome." She bowed quickly and slipped through the door before she could take a second look at him. She was halfway up the first set of stairs when she decided to turn around and go back to the ground floor to retrieve yesterday's mail. Her tried feet carried her down the few steps as she reached for her small mail key. Her eyes slipped to the small window beside the front door, where the silhouette of a tall figure was shaped in the frosted glass. She approached the front door, warily slid her hand around the handle and pulled it open. He was standing there, by the gate, and as the door opened he glanced to her.

"You're still here?" She asked, and he nodded.

"I was waiting for you to turn on your light—I wanted to make sure you were in your apartment safely." What was in his dark eyes? Concern? Indeed their glossy depths held sincere warmth, and she manage to just barely choke in a breath.

"Thank you," She said quietly.

"I'll wait until you get into your apartment—just turn on the light so I know you're all right." She couldn't find words. That long night spent in torture, seeing he and her best friend smiling, laughing together. A night spent with her hand within Shigure's, knowing that their time spent together, their conversations and affection was just a cover-up for two souls, one lonely, one bored. Such a pathetic grasp for appearances and mutual company. Her lip began to tremble, her hands shaking once more. "Goodnight, Mayu." he said, and she nodded and rushed through the door before he could see the tears that she had begun to shed, how they glistened and streamed down her cheeks.

She walked up the steps and through her apartment door. She flicked on the light, and moved to the window. She saw him there below. He tightened his coat, raised the collar and pulled it closer about his neck, and set off down the street.

"Thank you…Hatori."


End file.
